aaj darshan kare hum

In 1975, two legends were released.

Sholay will always be the ultimate epic of Bollywood, with amazingly well etched out characters and some lovely acting. For years, the characters were used to sell products or crack jokes. It was the ultimate super movie. The other legend was born 5 days later – me. Hah.

The other legend was Jai Santoshi Maa. This was a crazy dumb ass of a mytho meets current life movie in which the harassed but sweet as a daisy female protagonist gets her due. It set off the Devi Maa frenzy into the country with the Santoshi Maa fasts being the thing to do for all ails.

I remember seeing some parts of this movie and bloody hell grew up listening to these songs everywhere. My memories of these bhajans/ devotional songs are of a young kid, images of mother, festivities and dandiya being played. All this interspaced with images of being in Dubai. So it’s a weird combination of sands, air conditioning and parents from a low angle (I was a toddler remember). Writing this blog brought back memories which I now hereby share with you. Here listen to this.

The 70’s and 80’s dandiya beat hitting your head in a rhythmic frenzy. The gujju in me is awakened, albeit temporarily to this beat, wanting to take two bamboo sticks in hand, hold them gingerly in the middle, as I swirl, flirting with my fiancee, making eye contact, briefly and then smiling in acknowledgement, only to turn and twirl again, as fast as possible to catch her glimpse again. Hahahaha. Writing this was funny as it was only half in jest. The greatest memory of my marriage ceremony was the dandiya function which was held by Jasmine’s kutchi family in the true traditional style. I am dying to have a dandiya function like that again. Once more. With Jasmine. We had the best of times dancing to each other’s rhythm. Its been a long time since we danced like that together. I am sure her dancing legs will instantly activate on hearing the beats and seeing the ground set up. AH.

Jai Santoshi Ma was one the biggest hits of the year, holding its own story of love and piety against the simmering anger of Sholay and Deewar. For years, later Bollywood looked towards the feminine divine form for redemption, intervention and inspiration, torturing us with unbelievable stories at the climax, cheating us of logic and plotline. Man a crazy mind f*&K it was.

But who am I to criticize an era, especially since it etched me and gave a lot of my childhood, waiting for some Maa to save me from my Maa when I screwed up ;).  Yesterday I watched my own Jai Santoshi Maa and took my family along for the torture. It was a homage to the God who delivered us our aspirations and rode along in the journey from an awkward teen unsure about my future to an adult with faith in India and its ability to shine at the world stage. This God of India had people waiting for him wherever he went, he could do no wrong, no false step and conjure up magic from anywhere. His mere presence was enough to believe in hope. His name… you have to chant it, the way the world chanted it – SACHIN, SACHIN, dhad dhad dhad (three beats or claps or whatever you could do with any percussion in row, fast). No one made it up nor taught it to anyone; it was automatic and spontaneous from a crowd that was as a whole in dervish whirl to start with.

It was a documentary on the life of Sachin Tendulkar that I inflicted upon my family. It was horrible and disgusting, with no hope of getting any balanced view or insight. It was shit to start with and to finish with. When you have lived in a fish bowl for 30 odd years, not much is not known about you, much you can still try to extract insights from your journey that can be passed on to the youth to whom life may a pitfall be.

(This chasm, that has been naught to me,
To that fair-haired youth may a pitfall be.
He, too, must cross in the twilight dim;
Good friend, I am building this bridge for him)

Only if you were a die hard Sachin fan would you like this movie. Which I admit, I did. It moved me and brought out some real emotions in me. It ended with his retirement speech during which I could help but cry. Sachin had out stayed his cricket by a couple of years and he was at the end, a shadow of himself but still a force to reckon with. He always played his best at the world cups and the whole country wanted to win one for him. In the end when he had his last chance and we won the cup, it was because the team unlike the past did not depend on him to win it for them, but they wanted to win it for him.

But still, since he was two years older than me, his destiny was tied in with me as we saw a childhood of less to an adulthood of plenty, as we transitioned the economy to global inter connects and brashness of action but with a demeanor (almost false) of humility and good luck. In many ways, this 390 bucks that I spent on three tickets was my last piece of homage to the man who brought me endless hope, belief and joy. How can I explain when God hits a ball in the air and your hearts jumps with a weird type of joy and scare at the same time? Is it a six or will it be out. Should I leap in joy or should I hold my heart till I see the ball clear the fence (invariably). Oh god. How do I explain this?

But it still was a bad documentary. One sided and – ya – my era’s Jai Santoshi Maa where in the end, divine intervention solves everything! Here watch this, but go fast to the 6 minute mark when divine happens, or don’t say I did not warn you.

If you have belief and submit yourself to the higher lord then you will be delivered! JAI SANTOSHI MAA

And here see this miracle. When we as nation were facing the our fears, with Shoaib, the fastest bowler in the world, coming charging down on a hard wicket, bowling fast and Sachin hitting him for six with a shot never seen before by his devotees. That shot will forever be etched in my memory. This one comes in the one minute mark itself in the video. Have fun. But come on, don’t insult the devotee and go forward. See all his three miracles of the world cup.

See this one at the 4min:38second mark. That defined the God forever as it was against another God in this mega inter galactic battle

And I also know where I was on 27^th March 1994. I was in Panchgani in a hotel room when I woke up early to watch the match with dad as we saw Sachin open the innings for the first time to give Darshan and forever change the pecking order of the batting Gods of India. He sowed the opening the batting with the field restrictions is all about the gaps the aerial shots. We all wanted his century so much and it was so disappointing when he got out to a soft dismissal.

But here. The God has long retired paving the way for the others to follow. Creating an era as he walked on the 22 yards. And I paid my dues by watching his shitty documentary. I will always be beholden to him but at least my dues are paid, with money in the donation box.

But while going, listen to this aarti and then go please.

Jai jai Santoshi maata jai jai maa…. Jai jai Santoshi maata jai jai maa…. Jai jai Santoshi maata jai jai maa….Jai jai Santoshi maata jai jai maa….

Dream Swim

50 mtr backstroke gold, followed by 100 and 200 mtr silvers at the state meet and hence winning the right to represent Maharashtra as a campion at the Nationals; while being at the youngest in the age group spanning three years. It some real proud achievement for Jispa and for us as her parents.

Being a swim parent is a full time job and even more so for Jasmine. Take them to the pool, to the doctor, to the physio, get them food, sleep everything. It’s a crazy schedule that needs to be managed to the tee. As a father, I have to pull my weight, by getting up in the morning and taking her to the pool and then on weekends helping around with Jasmine at the swim events. And especially removing time for Jispa if she needs help in her studies. The mother is a crazy full time job with the menu and everything else. Today as I stand, I can’t believe how it can be done without Jasmine being at home full time. So, when a colleague was talking about how he wants his daughter to do well in sports, I tried to explain the enormity of the whole thing to him. It’s not easy to bring up a sports kid in Mumbai for now.

Which got me thinking. If in the future we see more and more, the rise of the double income household and the working mother and as a consequence will we have the breakdown of this support system that gives rise to children who can perform at a higher level? I had this thought for exactly two seconds. TWO FREAKING SECONDS. That’s it. I can’t not have these stupid thoughts. There is no choice to that. But what is in my control is how I react back to my own thoughts. Any stupid conservative guy will bemoan the death of the family and that the future of children would be lost and hence they would put stupid rigid controls in place. Get the mother to stay at home. Ensure that the greatness of the family tradition is maintained by ensuring status quo. In exactly two seconds (I am so proud of myself) I laughed. Of course not. There is no way that argument holds. At the first level itself, no one should tell the parent on how to raise their children (unless there is some serious abuse). But then, let’s keep that argument aside. At first, the argument looks tenable right now as I see it. Yes. You require a stay at home mother to really help in bringing up a child that aspires to do well in sports as well as studies. The ecosystem outside does not really help foster all round development without the active total involvement of one full time parent. But then saying no to the choice of the mother to work and be productive and to do what she wants is also not there. A working woman can add so much productivity to the nation’s workplace. What will happen is that women WILL join the work force, they will have children and they will have aspirations of them. They will want them to succeed and do more. At this time, they will be ready to spend more for them as they earn much more as a family. At that time, the ecosystem will automatically develop to allow for all the support required. This is the classic case of demand finding supply for itself over a period of time. In the short run, there will turmoil and pain but slowly more and more will be trained in the skills that are in demand and the market will emerge.

This is the simple belief in the markets being able to best allocate its resources by itself to things that bets suit it. Hence in fact we must allow all men and women equally to make their choices and not choose for them. The collective power of the market has to be believed in. This will free people to make their choices and push towards what they want.

Sometimes the government must step in if the private players fail to understand the power of a public good. Things that will help the society at large but is largely unnoticed or is commercially unviable. But then that’s it. The society must learn never to say no and never to put artificial barriers to choice. A barrier to choice in many ways a barrier to progress and is something that we must understand as a society.

Coming back to raising a kid, and that too a sports kid, is a very tough thing to do. You have to focus on sports but at the same time you have to keep an eye on studies. Nutrition is another big thing as well. Now as Jispa grows and turns 15 this year. She will have to learn to pull her own weight at home. I have been after her to now pull some. So far I think both Jasmine and me have protected her from the drudgeries of household work. We never made her party to the work to be done around home. As a kids growing up, I have washed vessels when the maid was not there. Every evening the servant would wash the vessels and leave them to dry. As kids, we had turns to dry every vessel and keep them in place in the evening. We had to make our own beds and also had turns to wipe the table. We had to clean the grains, peel fruit and everything else around the house. It wasn’t tough at all but it was boring and no fun. Jasmine and I have tried not to pass it on to Jispa. We have done the work ourselves. We hardly give Jispa any work compared to the stuff we did as kids. And it’s not just that we have an army of servants who do it. It just that we realise that as a kid most of this is boring. Also to be fair, Jispa with her swimming schedule and her studies never had the time to do much more. But now her exams are over and her vacations are on. She has plenty of time and she must now learn to contribute. I give her the table to clean, I ask her to help me while I help Jasmine in the kitchen etc. I think she needs to learn some basic life skills and house work. Jasmine’s view on this is similar and she has smaller asks. All she needs is for Jispa to finish her own work. Pick up her things, eat her foods, pack her own bags, keep away her stuff etc. Just do your own work and that itself is good enough. Jispa is a fine kid though. She understands but she can get exasperating when she has momentarily lapses of madness.

It’s been an awesome achievement on her part. To be a state level gold medalist and to manage studies and to read and everything else. I think we as parents are in danger of being heavy pushy mad parents. We think we are not. We try not to be. We try and achieve what we can and we try and push where we think its absolutely necessary but we are as always, ever in danger of breaching the tipping point.

But hell, let’s not take away from some real awesome glory that our young one has achieved. It’s a bloody gold at the State meet to qualify for the nationals. A bloody freaking gold. That’s something. It’s one the proudest moment for us as swim parents and as parents in general. Jispa is not a natural swimmer, she has worked hard to reach here and done tons of rigorous practice. Jasmine has devoted the last seven years towards this. It’s a big one. This is something that I say with pride and I look up to. It’s an amazing achievement. I am going to cherish this one for a long time to come. State level gold medalist. Wow.

While on achievement, I read an interesting poem that talks about the achievement and how over a period of time, it probably counts for nothing. Greatness too turns to dust in long run. Hah.

Jispa – you did well. It is one of the proudest moments of my life. I guess by that logic I mustn’t have lived too much, but in your life, I lead mine. And in the end just remember the poem of Ozymandias. Look him up. It’s a very interesting story.

Ozymandias

I met a traveller from an antique land, 

Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone 

Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand, 

Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown, 

And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, 

Tell that its sculptor well those passions read 

Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, 

The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed; 

And on the pedestal, these words appear: 

My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings; 

Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair! 

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay 

Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare 

The lone and level sands stretch far away.”

opposites reconcile in faith as well

One of the things I learnt in life is that people have opinions. I have opinions, people have them and everyone has different degrees of strength in their opinions. The truth and the strength of the opinion is generally inversely proportionate. That is a happy home truth. If you come from the premise (where I come from) that all truth is relative then all statements are opinions, because all of what you say is dependent on the truth you know or have been taught. The best amongst us understand that and hence always temper their opinions. They understand that and hence qualify their statements as opinions. This has been one of the biggest learnings in my life – that no one really knows anything and that you have to sit there and try it and understand it to really know what you think you know. That too is the truth relevant at that point of time, till better data or more data or a better understanding of data changes it. Why am I spewing this shit? I had a nice experience recently that made me laugh at myself. I too am quite a joker, but the only hope I have is that I am admitting to this paradoxical behavior in myself.

So – I was going through some professional crisis. It was quite painful and in the flux of it all, it was taking some amount of time for me to reinvent myself. But just as the crisis was hitting its peak, something stupid happened.

A week ago, in the morning I took Jispa to the pool and then went to play Badminton. When I was about to leave after the game at the gymkhana I realized that I couldn’t find my wallet. I did remember distinctly taking it but, for some reason, I couldn’t find it. I searched around at the court and then at the reception, where I sit in the morning and all the way to the car. I checked the Gymkhana records – I hadn’t swiped my card at the reception and hence possibly I did not get it today morning. So, then I went home, hoping that I left it somewhere there. When at home I couldn’t find it, I was seriously disturbed. Seriously.

Losing a wallet is not that disturbing as is it being the last straw breaking what was already a shitty week, mentally. I couldn’t get any lower. And that’s when the question of faith always hits me.

I was brought up a Hindu Jain (that in itself is a paradox) and I grew to be an atheist. It took some amount of real mind work from my side to stop believing that there is a God. The process took over 20 odd years. From the time I stopped asking God for favors to the time I actively stopped believing in him. It’s been an interesting story. As a father, I have taken some decisions and Jispa doesn’t know God. She had a conversation recently with her teacher on using the lowercase G for writing god in her essay and he teacher corrected her. While on one hand as a father I have been extremely proud of this, a small little voice inside of me is wondering – what happens when shit will hit the roof? Whom will she turn to. Man created God to explain the wondrous nature and the stroke of luck that we encounter while we get on with our life. It explains the unexplainable. When things happen without much explanation, a supreme power is always the best to explain it all. It becomes easier to handle.

The ancient philosophy versus the scientific philosophy to my mind is centered behind this conundrum. Science teaches us to think through and understand cause and effect. Everything can be explained but only the explanations haven’t been found out yet. The counter is simple – at the core itself, life is unexplainable and hence what meaning are you searching for.

My understanding of Jainism at its core is - forget all this – find harmony in your life as part of a greater eco system without wondering about cause and effect.

Cause and effect in science is explainable through experiments and in religion through God.

So when shit hits the roof, as it well; when unexplained phenomena happens with you as the only sufferer, when despair is all around and when you are alone; where will you find reserve and resolve? Will you find it inside of you or do you need someone outside looking at you and telling you, that you can do it, escape it, solve it, manage it, sleep through it?

I have had a childhood corrupted by faith. Like the songs of the 80’s and Amitabh Bachchan who cannot be removed from my psyche, no matter how much I try, so cannot be faith. I haven’t had a life changing moment that cancelled my faith. It has been a slowly drip murder. Funnily enough, this means that my faith is never really dead, but is merely sleeping. Waiting to pounce on my weak moments, helping me fight back. I seriously wonder what will Jispa do. In ten years time, I would like to talk to her on this topic more than anything else, and then 20 years hence and then on my death bed. What is a life, untarnished by faith?

But coming back – I lost my wallet and I was pissed as hell. I conversed once with god (small G) and asked what the hell man? I immediately laughed and reminded myself that I am an atheist and there isn’t anyone to listen, dear boy. Then when I searched at home and I didn’t find it, I remembered my granny’s little mantra that helped her find stuff that was lost. She taught it to us as kids. I am going to share this mantra with you and its worked for me many times. So when you lose something and you want it you say “paan khagar badri wala, hun saath waar hehe karis, maari vastu madi jaay toh!” translation – Paan Khagar Badri Wala (some dude I think), I will do (say, enact whatever) “hehe” seven times, if I find my belonging. And yes – you guessed it right – this atheist and non believer and a ritual hater – said it to himself. I did it. And I smiled to myself. I believed in Paan Khagar Badri Wala while rejecting God (big G).

I stepped into the shower smiling at myself. I was amused by my own beliefs and fundamentals. While I was in the shower, the phone rang. I quickly wiped myself and ran out. I picked the phone and it was from the gymkhana – “sir, we found your wallet. It was stuck inside of the seat of the sofa.” Haha. Mr Badri Wala did not fail me, it so seems. I laughed at myself and did the next logical thing. The mantra bounds me to a promise that I have to do hehe, seven times as payback. Hence – I hehe’d seven times after this call. A promise is a promise.

I so laughed at myself. My faith had been tested and it came out victorious. I didn’t know what to say or feel. I wanted faith to lose but I wanted my wallet to be found. If I was scientific – I would have believed that the wallet would have been found in any case and if I had not conversed with god and Mr Badri wala, I would had greater faith in myself and in our people’s honesty to return wallets; and if I was a man of faith, it would have made it only stronger.

The fact is that the answer is far more complex. I myself don’t know what a man I am. I am a man made of faith but run on logic; or as I write it – I am made of logic but run on faith. Oh dear me. I will never know what I truly am; the experiment is forever vitiated.

But Jispa should be a classic case here. Will see ‘hehe’ seven times when she wants her belongings found? Will she simply shrug off bad luck as what it is – luck. Will she attribute her success to her as that  what it possibly is – luck. The luck of draw that creates an envrironment around you and infuses you with a gene pool conducive to making it work for you. Sure, I am being very pessimistic here and attributing luck to most things. Surely your own ability calls for some credit but then I would give both sides ability then – good and bad things happen thanks to your ability. I am happy with that.

But after all this – I was so happy with myself. I found myself acting so silly and so full of faith. I loved the contradictions in myself. The seeming opposites stayed alive in one brain at the same time. Your initial growth and upbringing is vital but not necessarily an unshakeable attribute as you grow. But as you grow and learn new things, you don’t really forget the old things. Together as they forge in your head, they sometimes create an interesting mish mash of attitudes and beliefs. These obviously work seamlessly in your head. You don’t see contradictions in any of them but to the outsider who uses his own logic finds them stupid and counter intuitive. How many times, I must have got frustrated with people who seemingly create contradictory eco systems in their heads and it drives others up the wall. The big lesson for me to learn here is that which I said as I started the blog – opposites reconcile.